Nothing's How It Seems
by Deborahpflover
Summary: Coda to S01E15: The Benders. Outsider POV: Deputy Kathleen Hudak. Kathleen comes back home from finally solving the case surrounding her brother's disappearence, but she can't get the horrifying things she saw out off her head, nor the newest missing-and-now-found boy, Sam, and his cousin who was so dedicated to finding him.


**_Coda to S01E15: The Benders. Outsider POV: Deputy Kathleen Hudak._ Found this sitting around in my drabbles from I-don't-know-how-long ago. Figured I could put it up. ****Enjoy and please leave a Review with your thoughts!**

 **Disclaimer:** **"Supernatural" and all related logos, titles and characters are trademarks of the CW and Warner Bros. I own nothing. Eric Kripke is the brilliant creator of this awesome show.**

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The back-up she called finally arrives, and the brothers and sister are taken in. The State Police and the FBI look around the whole property and even they end up coming back pale-faced, horror in their eyes. This family was absolutely insane. So many killed, so brutally, for no reason. She has to choke back tears if she thinks about her brother, Riley, who had to die like this, so violently and alone and afraid. She gets interrogated, but after a few questions they all call it a night and send her home with the promise to continue tomorrow.

She collapses as soon as she closes her door, crying her heart out. She doesn't move until the clock suddenly announces it's midnight and she drags herself to bed. It's barely an hour later that she wakes up screaming. Images of the horrible father standing over Riley, laughing while her brother screams. Flashes of the little girl's creepy smile, of waking up in a cage, of being stalked and hunted across the old barn and the property that looked like it had been ripped right out of a horror movie.

She knows she won't be able to fall asleep again, so instead of trying she grabs her laptop and searches on 'Sam Winchester'. The limited information that pops up matches the kid she met in the bar perfectly, and she tries to find out something about his cousin. Something bothers her about him. Not in the bad way, it's not like the feeling she gets sometimes when she talks to someone who might be involved in something bad. This feeling is not that, it's not the cold dread she has come to recognize as _something is very badly wrong here,_ which usually turns out right. It's more like how she feels when a case doesn't add up and there are pieces missing. She has learned to trust her gut. It's an old instinct that doesn't do much in a court, but definitely helps pointing a case in the right direction. So she types in Greg's name in connection to Sam's and waits what comes up.

Only nothing ever comes up. The screen is blank. Sam has no cousins. Sam has no family at all with the name 'Greg'.

It's a bit disturbing, but she caught him on lying once before. This is just another lie. With nothing to go as far as cousins are concerned, she instead clicks to Sam's parents.

'John Winchester' is the first that pops up. A retired Marine, fought for his country in Vietnam, married to 'Mary Campbell' a few years after the war ended. Father of two sons, oldest 'Dean Winchester' and youngest 'Samuel Winchester'.

She whistles at the 'marine' part and suddenly understands how Sam Winchester managed to handle himself so professionally in such a situation. Calm, strategic, a damn good fighter. Kids of old-soldiers always get a bit of army with them. She wonders if Dean got it too, if that's why he ended up as a suspect of a murder case. She almost clicks Dean's name just to see if there's more background info on him when something else catches her attention.

Behind Mary Campbell-Winchester's name is a note that says she is deceased. She pauses and holds her breath when she sees the date. It's from 22 years ago, which must means that Sam could barely be more than a baby back then. A wave of sympathy hits her. Not only an army-brat, but a kid without a mum. She searches further and comes across an article from that fateful night. And right there, in the middle of the article is a picture that makes her heart stop. A house burning from an upstairs window, police, ambulances and fire workers crowded around it, an old, classic black car on the side. There's a man sitting on the hood, one arm wrapped around a little boy with a mob of blond hair, clutching a baby to his chest with the other. The caption says _'John, Sam and Dean Winchester watching their house burn.'_

The caption seems too cruel, to damning. She wonders what kind of newspaper thought that was okay to write down.

Reading further she finds out that Mary never made it outside, which throws the picture in an even darker light. And all of a sudden, a scene from today flashes through her head: Greg looking at her with far away eyes filled with full-blown panic and hurt that cut her deeply as he begged her not turn him in before they found Sam.

" _Listen, when we were young- I basically pulled him from a fire…"_

She looks again at the picture, scanning the people in it for someone- anyone- who resembles Greg. There's no-one besides the broken Winchester family on the car, the fire workers, the police and ambulance crew. No people trying to comfort the grieving, panic-streaked family. No one keeping an eye on them. It's like they're separated from everyone, wrapped up in themselves. No one who could be the mystery 'cousin'.

And then it hits her like someone banged a club against her head. Greg was so young, barely older than Sam. Twenty-two years is a long time, it's too long for someone who looked still like a college-kid himself. There's no one in that picture who is young enough to be Greg. Sam must be the baby of the picture, and the only other kid is-

" _When we were young,"_

" _I basically pulled him from a fire."_

Panicked green eyes, short brown hair, clothes that look like they're picked up from the street, tall, handsome and well-build. Probably somewhere between 6 and 6'2 tall. She pauses, feels her throat close up from foreboding, and watches the little boy in the picture. It's a bad quality black and white but the little boy pressed to John Winchester's side is definitely somewhere around five years old. Uncertain and not willing to admit to what she's already thinking she skips back to the police record, hovers uncertainly over the name of 'Dean Winchester' before clicking it.

The description pops up right away to taunt her.

 _6'1 ft. tall, 176 Ibs, brown hair, green eyes, no significant tattoos or birthmarks._

Her heart stops.

It's not possible. Dean Winchester is confirmed dead. Found shot multiple times in the heart with silver bullets. Towed back to the police office for examination and death-confirmination. By now, already buried for months in a police-numbered grave.

" _Yeah, Dean… sort of the black sheep of the family. Handsome though."_

It's still not possible. But there's no other explanation. Her mind pictures Sam and Greg next to each other. Similar build, similar way of moving and holding themselves. Similar hair color. Family.

" _He's my responsibility."_

" _Your cousin is looking for you."_

" _Oh thank god."_

He never told her his real name. Neither did Sam ever say it. But the connection between them was strong, real. Concern and protectiveness and familiarity. And now this. She doesn't know what to think. She really doesn't. Her head hurts. Probably still from the hit and from all the trauma, from all the information she didn't want to know.

She turns off the computer and falls down on her bed. She doesn't sleep that night.

She really didn't expect to anymore anyway.


End file.
